bottled bargain
by One Foot Forward
Summary: Oneshot / surely that couldn't be the end to the adventure?


**AN: **I don't even know how I came to this point, but all I know is that I can't even regret it. If you haven't seen the 2009 SyFy Alice, you should really get on that (and I know, you may wonder, _if I haven't seen it, why would I be reading this_, but I know some of you gorgeous people have me on author alert and may read this before abandoning ship when you realize this is neither another Inuyasha update or Captain Swan oneshot - sorry).

I hope everyone who celebrates it had a wonderful Christmas, and is having a thoroughly enjoyable post holiday rest. I know I'm certainly enjoying the brief two day rest period that comes after working the holiday rush. And for those of you who are here but aren't interested in this piece (although again, I urge you, go watch this, it's on YouTube), I plan on putting up both a little bit of ABNW/Struggle and CS material, so uhm...don't give up?

(PS. I took some liberties with the facts, such as the idea of Hatter's parents, and the fact that if Alice being gone roughly three days (I think?) amounts to an hour in her world, than a month or so would be needed before Hatter followed her home).

* * *

He would have to get a place. It wasn't so easy as a push or a jump and off he went, through the looking glass. No, he would _have_ to get a place.

And a haircut, god knows he hadn't had one of those in a long while. There was also the problem of a source of income (something the King had assured him was _not_ the same as bottled pleasure) and the whole time exchange –– every hour he spent in _her_ world was several day in his.

It just wasn't _simple_.

When he'd gone to the King (and the White Knight, his ruddy horse, two different types of suits, and at his truly desperate moment he'd even accosted one of the old diamond casino ladies) he'd been set as straight as a mad man could be. Of course Jack was more than willing to give up his old apartment, the name of his hairdresser (and stylist, because the other world's idea of a dress code was vastly different from frilly dresses and bright red suits), and _of course_ he would give Hatter a monetary bonus for all his work for the revolution.

_Of course_.

Honestly, he'd been told (threatened, really, when it came to the third time he'd approached the King and his knave –– the one who took all of the business the new King was too busy to handle –– had had to talk to him, _again_) that all it really boiled down to was one thing. One very important, very confusing, very _pretty_ thing.

He'd sighed and grumbled and bounced back and forth, but even Hatter knew it only came down to _her_.

He hadn't been given a lot in life. Sure, working both sides of the chess board had been fun, hell, even owning the tea shop and being granted the ability to live on a small patch of _real_ land had been interesting, even if he had never dared to dabble in the corked emotion business himself. But he'd been born to a ruthless woman who'd ended up on the wrong side of the Queen, a father who had skipped town (and continued skipping, quite literally, all the way to some new realm or another, and this was really where Hatter figured he inherited his more eccentric traits), and into an era of fear and oppression. It was hardly the right background to invoke hope into his life.

But then Jack had sat him down, had talked about _Alice _this, and _Alice_ that, and reminded him that indeed, the King had been her lover for quite some time and harboured very real feelings for the girl ––

(the beautiful, brave, incredibly _brash_, rash, absolutely insane brunette, clad in blue, so much blue, fiery blue eyes that burned with that _oyster_ emotion, that lit a passion in him he hadn't felt in the years stretching behind him, or any of the ones he'd imagined came after)

–– and then reminded _him_ that he would not take her happiness lightly; would not _give_ it lightly.

It had taken over a month of Wonderland time for him to convince himself that even if she didn't want him (her embrace had been borne of worry, had been fleeting, and her focus had been on the people she loved, had barely touched on the man in the hat who had tried to guide her), he wanted _her_. And he would fight for the chance that she would even consider a future with him, a future spent wherever they decided.

(although even then the past had licked at his heels, the sharp pain and frustration of a life hardly lived, but lived far too long)

The King had come to see him off, had given him some of the weird green paper and a bit of plastic that was supposed to help him live in her world. Hatter suspected that underneath all of his new tutelage and titles, Jack still cared for Alice just as he did. Hatter had been surprised to learn that she had turned down his proposal (twice), but felt that this fact alone spoke to the true measure of the King's affections. That he would accompany him to see him off was not just remarkable, it was also a warning –– Alice was worth everything he had, and plenty more.

Charlie had also come to see him off, a small parade of well-wishers, and had given him a very lengthy letter to deliver to Alice from the Legends. Another promise to keep, another reason for him to see her face once more.

The journey through the looking glass was a little rough, and between the lawmen and his haphazard guesses at locating Jack's apartment, it took yet another week for him to get his bearings. He became David, he found Alice's mother (and he checked in on her, oh gods, how _good_ it was to hear that she was safe and well and home), and he went and got himself a haircut.

It wasn't really as frightening as he'd made it out to be, and he knew that everyone had been right, it all boiled down to Alice and meeting her, and every time he thought of it his skin set aflame and sped up his heartbeat and it was all he could do not to run back the way he'd came.

When he eventually walked up to her door, armed with his name and story, and heard her answer her mother's call, he discovered a new emotion (and did all oysters feel like this, all the time, like their skin was alive with constant tremors, and their nerves too overcome with tension to allow them to sit still?) –– excitement. Anticipation. Adoration.

And she turned the corner, glorious, gorgeous, magnificent Alice, and breathed his name, and he knew love.

(he would face the Queen a thousand times over if only to relive the moment she ran into his arms, and he _finally_ held her as he'd always imagined, the way she'd been so happy to see him and not just because he was a _friend_, how her eyes had found his and his lips met hers and he knew it wasn't just one-sided on his part)

And sure. He had to get a place. And a haircut. And gods, eventually, a _job_. But he also got Alice. And that was the best bargain of all.


End file.
